


May You Find Some Comfort

by Aretsuna



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Friendship, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Jemma has to struggle with her nightmares, Late at Night, Missing Scene, One Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Tumblr Prompt, post s03e02, really there will be no chapter2!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 02:45:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4987078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aretsuna/pseuds/Aretsuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of the night Simmons fights against nightmares from the alien planet. Fortunately now she can’t be alone for long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	May You Find Some Comfort

Something was moving in the shadows. Something was sneaking; getting ready to attack. Simmons couldn't see it, but she could hear it, could feel the shiver run through her bones and muscles, like an army of ants biting into them to signal that it's time to hit or run, time to fight or die trying.

She tensed her legs, preparing for an escape from her shelter, for lack of a better word. There was darkness all around her, surrounding her, but she had to move, had to run away, had to stay alive.

Jerking into a sitting position, she started looking around the darkness in a panic, looking for a weapon, something to protect herself, something to attack with. The only thing she could feel was something soft and thin under her fingers, not sharp or hard enough, not reliable for protection.

The panic was rising within her, but when she desperately tried to find some protection for herself, tried to run, there was something wrapped around her legs, tying them to the ground.

It took her a while to figure out that it was a blanket and a bed, and that this bed was technically _hers_. She was back, in the place that she used to call home, and it made her want to cry because she knew she should be safe now, but she just couldn't feel like she was. How could she, when there were shadows of blue, lurking in every corner of her world, just waiting for her to close her eyes and lose her focus for a second? She barely stopped herself from screaming in fear and frustration, because she knew what would follow - the rest of the team barging into her room, trying to touch and hold her, talking all at once, the noise unbearable. So she sat there, her hand over her mouth, just in case a scream needed to be muffled, breathing heavily and hoping that it would calm her down.

Recently, there was always fear and panic and misery in her, fighting and trying to bring her down, and it were getting stronger during the night. Simmons was so tired of constantly fighting, trying to be strong and stand her ground, tired of looking over her shoulder for months in fear.

 _Maybe I could go outside, take just a few steps, push the door open and sneak into Fitz’s room, let him deal with this just one more time… I can be strong tomorrow,_ she thought, when tears started to well in her eyes.

Fitz knew how to chase bad feelings away. He knew how to find her and take her away from the nightmare she had had to live in back then, and now too, he would certainly be able to chase her fears away. With him, she remembered times when she was simply happy and unthreatened. She felt it in her bones - years of trust, friendship and comfort which were so much stronger than mere months of nightmares and danger. Hearing his breathing and feeling his warmth was enough to lull her into peaceful, undisturbed sleep. That’s how she had survived the first few days back ‘home’ - by trusting him to keep her safe and allowing herself to relax during his watch.

The problem was, she couldn’t rely on him forever. As much as Simmons wanted nothing more than to run to Fitz and hide in his arms, hoping that they, as always, would protect her from all the shadows and nightmares, she had to learn how to fight them on her own. She had to learn how to walk and sleep on her own. They both had been through a lot lately, her lost on an alien world, him trying to find a way to her on his own. Now they were back together, but there was a long road in front of her before she would be back on track. So here she was now - alone in ‘her’ bedroom, trying to sleep through the night, but waking up and looking around in search for someone who would fight her battles for her.

She wouldn’t, not anymore. It was her idea, she wanted to get better as soon as possible, and Dr. Garner said it would be good to try it. They both convinced Fitz that she should start sleeping alone in her room, without him sitting on whatever surface he would find and watching her, nodding off and falling asleep long after her and waking up immediately when she so much as whined. Healing was painful, but that was the only way to get better. Simmons knew it would be difficult at first, but she didn’t expected that even now, after a few days since they started, she would be still waking up in a cold sweat, looking around in panic and wanting to call for Fitz.

 _No. I have to be strong now,_ she reminded herself. She would sit here and not close her eyes for the whole night if that’s what it would take. Sleeping during the day could be a better idea, it would be safer then. Fitz was asleep anyway, and he needed rest as much as she did. She couldn’t just go and wake him up, demanding to fight for her over and over again, every hour of the day and every time she called at night.

She had to be stronger than that, she couldn’t be a weak victim forever. How could she move forward with Fitz if she dragged him back constantly? Sitting there on her own was not pleasant and she was still trembling and fighting with a panic that was growing stronger with each second, but it would make her stronger, and she had learned the hard way that only the fittest would survive. The fight would never end and she couldn't count on anyone, she had to save herself, because nobody else would do it, nobody would come looking for her, and she was once again all alone.

There was a loud crack that cut through the silence of the room and made her jump on the bed, seeing blue again, desperately searching for a way out.

"Jemma?" came a stammering voice.

Simmons looked in that direction, trying to calm down her uneven breath and racing heart, trying to focus on the shadows in her doorway.

It was Fitz, wrapped in his blanket, barefoot and hair a tangled mess.

"You are safe, Jemma," he told her, slowly coming closer, his hand on the wall to guide him in the darkness. "It's me."

Her reply was at the tip of her tongue but suddenly she couldn't speak, a lump in her throat too big to let the words out, and she sobbed, unable to control herself anymore.

"Shh," he told her, sitting on the edge of the bed, putting his arm on the wall to support some of his weight. "It's all right." His voice was still sleepy and unclear.

"I woke you up," she whined, looking at his tired, semiconscious face.

"No, I wasn’t sleeping," he lied. "I was just lying in my bed, awake and bored." He wiped his eyes with his hand.

She’d known him long enough to know how he looked on sleepless nights. This was not it, this was a clear ‘Fitz just dragged out of Morpheus’ embrace and still not fully aware that he's awake’ state. And she hated herself for causing it.

"Come here," he told her.

"We shouldn't." She tried to remember to be strong and not let him fight her demons. "I have to deal--"

"Come here, I'm cold." He gave her an excuse, waving his hand in invitation.

She surrendered to his embrace and let herself melt into his warmth.

"Nightmare?" He asked, and she just nodded, closing her eyes with desperation to forget all about that blue world.

"You're safe now," he reminded her.

"I know. I know." How silly of her to go back and relive the past again and again, causing pain to her and those around her.

"It's okay." Fitz was less sleepy with each word. "It's just a dream, it's not real, not anymore.”

Why she couldn't just close those doors and not look back? The portal was destroyed, there was no way back, nothing to take her away, but here she was, going back there on her own will.

“It's normal and understandable,” Fitz continued, as if he had read her mind. “That you still remember and it comes back to you. It will get weaker with time, you will see. You just need to be patient with yourself, you will get there.” He rubbed her arm lightly. “I will help you, Jemma, always. We all will."

"You shouldn't,” she said, and bit her lip, trying to stop herself from crying.

"That's not true. You've been alone way too long, but you're not anymore. We’re here. You can count on us. You can trust me," he said, wrapping his blanket around her arms and hugging her.

"I know. I do," she sobbed into his chest.

"Then trust me when you're hurt and let me comfort you." He patted her back. "I don't want you to be scared anymore, especially not when I can help it. Next time, don't wait and sit alone, just call."

"I didn't want to wake you."

"It's no big deal."

"How did you know?"

"Sensors." He pointed at her wrist, where a plastic bracelet was hanging. "I connected them to my tablet and set an alarm. Just in case."

She was silent for a moment, grateful that he had that idea, grateful that he was there with her, in the darkness of the night, grateful that he took her away from that alien planet she was trapped on not so long ago.

"I'm a mess," she finally stated, trying to dry her tears with her hand but feeling another wave coming.

"You're not. You just went through a lot. Lot of intense things happened to both of us and we need some time to learn how to deal with them. But we will in time. We can fix everything together, remember?"

"You really think so?" She couldn't believe it, because it was not something as simple as a virus that could be cured or a treason that could be fought.

"Of course. You're back and you're safe, that's what matters."

"I'm not the same," she told him.

This simple truth was what she worried about most, what scared her as much as the shadows of blue; this realisation that she was different, that she had changed and she couldn't fit into her old life as perfectly as she wished. The constant question of what she had left and how much she had lost was demanding an answer, but she was too afraid to face it, still clinging to the hope that maybe everything would just go back to the way it used to be.

"Neither am I," Fitz shrugged in reply. "We’ve both changed. Everything does and becomes something different with time, and there's nothing wrong with that. We just changed faster than normal, but we will figure it out." His hand was stroking her hair, the gentle caress helping her ground herself in the here and now, his calming words piercing through her wall of confusion, fear and depression. "We will, slowly, step after step."

If took her a while to process all of his words. When she finally did, they still didn’t sound convincing and were hard to accept in her current state, but nonetheless, she decided to believe him. Fitz was a genius; if he said she will be fine, then that must be truth, even if it didn't look so for her.

Making a promise to herself that she would keep her faith in him even if she lost it for herself, she nodded. She just had to believe for now that Fitz would find her every time she got lost, just like he always did,

"You are already making so much progress," he pointed out, kissing the top of her head. "It's almost 4am, Jemma. You were sleeping on your own for more than half of the night. You remained asleep for more than five hours. That was impossible a while ago."

"That's not really an achievement," she mumbled into his pyjama shirt.

"Is it? It's clearly a step in the right direction if you ask me. Besides, it could have been worse. You could have come back saying words like ‘prison’ instead of ‘jail’, or call biscuits ‘cookies’ and  write words without ‘u’ but with ‘z’ or even don’t like tea anymore and skip 5 o'clock," he joked, and to her surprise she laughed.

"Yes, everything will be fine as long as I'm still purely British."

"Everything will be fine as long as you are you,” he told her with a smile, his thumb caressing her cheek. “And whatever happened over there, it didn't break you, you just adjusted to survive. And now, with time, you will adjust back, because you are Jemma Simmons, and you are stronger than that. There's nothing bad or weak in needing help or relying on others."

"When did you get so wise?" she joked, finally relaxing, her cheeks dry and her body losing the tension and getting slack.

"I was always wise." He patted her arm playfully in mock offence. "All right, night chat over, we are going to sleep."

"You will stay?" She looked up at his face, which was covered in shadows, that for once were not scaring her, not when he was the one wearing them.

"Of course. I'm not walking those cold corridors anytime soon."

"Good," she agreed, catching his shirt in her hand and hoisting herself just a little bit up to peck his lips with hers. "I wouldn't let you anyway."

Neither of them made a move and they were not speaking anymore, just sitting there, happy to feel the presence of other, a calming warmth of skin, tingle of breath and even heartbeat were the best lullaby they could both dream of.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is my answer to a [tumblr](http://aretsuna.tumblr.com/) ask for my giveaway, I hope you like it anon!  
> The title is a quote from "In The Arms Of The Angel" song.  
> Huge thanks to [EclecticMuse](http://archiveofourown.org/users/EclecticMuse/pseuds/EclecticMuse) for last minute express beta reading and helping me with the title!  
> Thank you all for reading, remember that there's a correlation between feedback and motivation ;)


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